


Avoiding Suspicion

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [12]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “Hey,” Bryce says, grinning that ridiculous, gorgeous grin at him.It’s all Jared can do not to grin right back, but he should act normal or cool or whatever, so he bites it back.“Hey, Marcus,” Jared says, gives him a nod.“Um,” Bryce says. “Hey…Jared? I mean — hey Matheson.”“Oh man,” Raf says, very quietly.





	Avoiding Suspicion

Jared kind of gets his wish about making out.

Like, not exactly, but Bryce’s definition of a kiss goodbye is less a quick peck on the lips than a clash of mouths, deep and lingering, his thumb tracing the skin behind Jared’s ear, which Jared hadn’t been aware was hardwired to his dick but absolutely is, and Jared is so, so grateful for Bryce’s definition.

His mouth is buzzing when he gets out of the car, shorts uncomfortably tight, and thankfully there’s no one in the living room to waylay him as he passes it on his way to his room. He figures one more round of self-care before dinner isn’t excessive. 

Jared puts off telling Raf until it’s getting close to bed. He knows Raf’s going to figure it out whether or not Jared tells him, and telling him through text is better than Raf having an epiphany in front of other people, but god, Jared hates hearing ‘I told you so’.

 _It was maybe a date_ , Jared texts Raf.

Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, _was_ Friday a date? Does that make today the third date, then? It probably doesn’t actually matter in the grand scheme of things whether it’s been two or three dates, but like. It suddenly feels like it matters a lot. Jared has to resist texting Bryce to ask. That’d definitely look pretty clingy. Immature. Inexperienced.

Don’t text him, Jared. 

Thankfully Raf texts Jared back before he cracks. Raf is a much bigger man than Jared, because there isn’t even a glimmer of ‘I told you so’ in his response, a simple _how was it?_

Jared debates. Writes entire sentences, deletes them right after, things ranging from _I think I’ve got it bad_ to _He thought he was eating chocolate in his eggs and somehow I still really like him_. They all seem too much, like more than Raf would actually want to hear, more than Bryce would want Raf to know. More than Jared wants _anyone_ to know, because it makes him seem — well, exactly like he is, which is totally an embarrassment to himself right now. 

_Surprisingly good_ , he settles on, chewing his bottom lip as he sends it.

_does that mean you’re done with the plan now?_

Jared’s halfway through typing _What plan?_ before he remembers. It’s not like it ever actually worked, unless by ‘be fake nice to Bryce until he goes away’ it meant ‘completely fail at being nice to Bryce until he kisses you’, in which case it worked perfectly. Jared is suspicious that his subconscious maybe had a different plan than him all along.

 _I guess so_ , Jared texts, and Raf sends him a thumbs up emoji.

*

Jared’s excited for camp.

That sounds so ridiculous, like the kids who come to school hyped to be there and making everyone who’s just using first period to get a little more sleep look bad. Though, Jared will be honest with himself: he’s not actually excited for camp. He’s excited to see Bryce.

That honestly sounds even worse. 

Like, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since they last saw each other, and the only thing he spent more time with than Bryce this weekend was his bed. Combining them — well, there’s a thought. It’s definitely not the first time he’s had it, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any less compelling.

“You look cheerful,” Raf says when he gets off his bus.

Shit. Jared was trying to look neutral. Obviously it didn’t work.

“Well, um,” Jared says, then, inanely, “Y’know.”

Raf looks like he’s totally laughing at Jared on the inside, but he’s too nice to do it out loud. “Wanna head in?” he asks, and Jared must hesitate, because he says, “We’ve got time, we can stick around outside.”

“I mean,” Jared says. “If you want to, I don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Raf says. Jared’s pretty sure he’s laughing at him on the inside again.

Jared tries extra hard to look neutral when Bryce pulls into the parking lot, but judging by the side-eye he gets from Raf, he totally fails. He also tries not to ascribe meaning to the fact that Bryce parks beside his mom’s car even though there are closer spots, but he fails at that too. 

It first occurs to him that he looks like he’s waiting for Bryce after Bryce has definitely seen him and it’s too late to duck inside. Jared is so bad at this. He’d like to retroactively apologise to every single teammate he’s ever chirped for being obvious as fuck around a girl, because it is way harder to play it cool than Jared thought. It was so effortless when he didn’t actually give a shit. 

“Hey,” Bryce says, grinning that ridiculous, gorgeous grin at him.

It’s all Jared can do not to grin right back, but he should act normal or cool or whatever, so he bites it back.

“Hey, Marcus,” Jared says, gives him a nod.

“Um,” Bryce says. “Hey…Jared? I mean — hey Matheson.”

“Oh man,” Raf says, very quietly.

“Rafael,” Bryce adds, with a little head bob. “Nice day for some hockey, eh?”

“Sure,” Raf says, giving Jared a look that Jared translates to ‘dude it’s like twenty-five degrees out. Also what’s with Marcus?’

Jared gives him a tiny helpless shrug.

Bryce keeps pretty close throughout the morning, which technically isn’t any different than the last few weeks, so Jared figures he can let it slide. Also: the hovering makes way more sense now. Bryce is — not particularly subtle, in hindsight.

Jared bites down a smile again, does his best to treat Bryce like he always had, minus the insults — well mostly, because Jared can’t resist when Bryce somehow doesn’t see an entire elliptical machine right in front of him and swears up a fucking storm while clutching at his elbow, but what comes out of Jared’s mouth is regular chirping rather than actual malice.

By lunch, Jared is actually pretty confident that he’s kept things seeming normal. Not confident enough to ask Raf for a outside confirmation, but pretty confident.

Bryce appears at Jared’s table, looking weird — like, not actually weird, he’s looking good as per usual, but the expression on his face isn’t one Jared’s seen before — and it’s like Jared’s summoned him with his foolish, arrogant belief in his success.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Bryce says.

“Uh,” Jared says, checks to see if anyone’s paying attention, and no one is, other than Raf. “Sure?”

“Hallway?” Bryce says.

“I’ll follow you out in a minute,” Jared says.

“I—” Bryce says, then, “Fine.”

He leaves in a hurry, the opposite of inconspicuous, which has Jared thinking it was a good idea to take the extra step of separate exits.

Jared could fucking _swear_ he hears Raf say ‘use condoms’ as Jared pushes his chair back to follow.

Bryce is leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking even more grim-faced, and Jared feels kind of like he’s been doused with cold water, because that’s not a good look. Jared doesn’t like that look at all.

“What’s up?” Jared asks. So many attempts at neutral today, so many failures, because it comes out kind of shaky.

“Did I do something?” Bryce asks. 

“What?” Jared asks.

“Like, you’re calling me Marcus, and acting like,” Bryce says, “— different? And I just — did I do something? Like, yesterday, or.”

“I’m just like — trying to act normal, you know?” Jared says. “Like before? Just — like, we didn’t really get along, I figured it’d be kind of weird if we were suddenly all buddy buddy.”

“Oh,” Bryce says. “Oh. Okay. Cool.”

“I kind of thought you got that,” Jared says. “I mean, like. You called me Matheson.”

“It seemed like what you wanted me to do?” Bryce says.

“It was, so,” Jared says. “Good job?”

“So we’re okay?” Bryce asks.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “I mean. I think so, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bryce says. 

Jared looks around, but it’s deserted, everyone still at lunch, so he reaches out, squeezes Bryce’s wrist lightly. “We’re good.”

The smile’s back, and Jared’s suddenly aware of how easy it was to knock it off his face. “You want to hang out after camp?”

“I can’t stay out too late?” Jared says, because his weekend curfew’s one thing, but his parents are treating this camp like it’s some miracle thing he was honoured to be chosen for. Jared Bradley Matheson, the newest disciple of Western Canada Hockey, must rest an optimal amount of time each day so as to expend maximum effort. This rest includes eight hours of sleep, a balanced and healthy meal three times a day, and the requirement to be home in time for the third healthy and balanced meal, lest he be distracted by the wild streets of Calgary somehow.

Jared takes hockey seriously, and he knows he’s got to put in the work now in order to make it his career, that getting drafted high doesn’t necessarily set you up for success in the league, but it sure as hell doesn’t _hurt_. But honestly, they’re way more rigid about this than they are about things during the season: as long as he doesn’t slip below a B+ average and as long as he’s home before midnight on game days, they’re a lot more relaxed about things than some of his teammates’ billet families. And objectively his hockey season matters a whole lot more than this. It’s not like Evanson’s sending scouting reports to teams or anything, unlike literally every NHL team, all of whom have people scouting the WHL.

Unless — dude’s tangentially related to Hockey Canada, so honestly he might be making a report.

_Jared Matheson: good speed, good form, keeps antagonizing Bryce Marcus, sign of bad attitude, better pass on him for the U18s, and also tell every NHL team not to bother drafting him._

“What’s the face?” Bryce says. “If you’ve got something else to do I—”

“Does Evanson write reports about us?” Jared blurts, then, “No, I don’t have anything to do, my parents are just kind of—”

“I have no clue?” Bryce says, “And that’s, I totally get that, my mom practically had like, ‘sun’s down, be home’ for me until I was like, sixteen. Not that you’re sixteen, but like, you know what I—”

The door swings open behind them, and Jared suddenly realises that they’re standing like, less than a foot apart and talking over each other. He takes a big step back, mumbles, “Gotta finish lunch,” and heads back at a consciously regular pace when he sees it’s Sterling, who he doesn’t really know at all, definitely not well enough to know whether he’s observant.

Bryce keeps his distance all afternoon, and Jared would worry that he’d taken things personally, that this was him upset or something, except the one time Jared catches his eye across the ice, Bryce’s grin is more blinding white than the ice surface.

Bryce is super bad at acting normal. Unfortunately, Jared’s pretty sure that applies to him too.

*

There honestly isn’t much you can do in an hour and a half.

Well, there is, really, but there isn’t much in that stretch between the end of camp and dinner. The arena isn’t super close to anything, if Jared has a cup of coffee he’ll be wired, if he eats he won’t be hungry for dinner. There isn’t enough time for a movie, and even if there had been, they’re too late for one showing, too early for the next one. 

They end up at the park again, swinging lazily on the swing set while some mom supervising her kids on the jungle gym gives them suspicious looks every so often, saying something to her kids, probably about stranger danger or teenage hooligans or whatever.

Jared has to drive himself home, or he can’t drive into camp tomorrow. Bryce offers to pick him up in the morning, but there’s no way a missing car and sudden carpooling wouldn’t be noticed, so Bryce drops him off at the arena, ends up getting into the passenger side of Jared’s mom’s car, a mirror image of yesterday, Bryce’s tongue in his mouth, his fingers threaded through Jared’s hair, doing this gentle little stroking motion that makes Jared shiver.

Jared is starting to think absolutely every body part Bryce touches is directly connected to his dick. He’s kind of afraid what’ll happen if — when? — Bryce gets a hand around it. Spontaneous orgasm is a possibility. More self-care might be a way of avoiding that, but probably not. Can’t hurt, anyway.

“See you tomorrow, Matheson,” Bryce says as he gets out of the car, his shorts a little ill-fitting — not that Jared’s looking, and not that Jared’s trying to size up what he’s working with, because Jared is not. 

Jared likes the way Bryce says his last name, like it’s an in-joke, a secret they’re sharing.

“Night, Marcus,” Jared says, and gets that devastating fucking grin in response.


End file.
